


Line of Duty

by ThatMerlinFangirl



Series: Line of Duty [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drama, Multi, PTSD, Police, Romance, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6954439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatMerlinFangirl/pseuds/ThatMerlinFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DI Merlin Emrys is involved in a witness transfer when unknown enemies attack the convoy, killing two of his squad. When he refuses to go along with a cover-up, he is demoted and transferred to Anti-Corruption Unit 12, headed up by the ruthless Chief Superintendent Arthur Pendragon.<br/>Merlin quickly becomes involved in a complex case against DCI Nimeuh Priest, facing harsh treatment from his fellow officers and battling his own personal demons. The only redeeming face of AC-12 is young DC Mordred Lot.<br/>But as love begins to blossom, the enemy is emerging from the shadows. Merlin and his comrades must risk everything in the line of duty to bring the true criminals to justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Inspector Calls

**Author's Note:**

> So first of all, thank you to everyone who left kudos/commented on my previous works. I wasn't honestly expecting that much.  
> This is my first multi-chapter work and I will try and update as often as possible. This is based on the brilliant BBC series Line of Duty which I'm using as the guideline for all the police procedural stuff. So this is by no means accurate.  
> So yeah - thank you and I hope you enjoy it.

_4 th Street Station, 23:36_

Sergeant Elyan Smith hurries through the dim tangle of open-plan and private offices with uncharacteristic haste. Heads turn as, panting, he reaches a door and bursts in, knocking clearly the last thing on his mind.

“Urgent call for the Duty Inspector.”

A pair of sombre blue eyes instantly snaps up from the desk.

\---                             

The phone is snatched up from the receiver.

“DI Emrys.”

A pause. Then a trembling female voice breaks the silence, talking rapidly without stopping for breath.

“ _DS Vivian West, requesting urgent assistance. Immediate and credible threat to life_.”

 ---

DI Merlin Emrys makes his way briskly through the squad room, donning a stab vest as he does so and directing swift orders at Elyan who follows close at his heels.

“Owain, Pelinor, with me. We’re heading out,” Merlin barks into the radio before turning to Elyan. “I need Gold to sign off on this.”

Elyan frowns. “The Chief Superintendent’s gone home sir.”

“Call him then.”

 ---

“ _Chief Superintendent Aulfric Tirmor: please leave a name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you._ ”

Elyan shakes his head. “His mobile’s gone to voicemail too.”

Merlin frowns.

“We should give him a few more minutes.”

“There’s no time.”

Merlin turns sharply on his heel and heads for his office.

“Sir…”

Elyan’s voice trails off in a sigh. He knows it’s pointless. Merlin never has any patience with their superiors where civilian lives are concerned.

 ---

Rain hammers against the window as Merlin waits anxiously for the phone to pick up, drumming his fingers on the desk.

A crackle. “ _Deputy Chief Constable Monmouth_.”

Some of the nervous tension leaks away. “Sir, it’s DI Emrys.”

“ _Ah, Merlin,_ ” Geoffrey Monmouth’s Father Christmas-worthy smile beams its way through the phone line. “ _How can I help you?_ ”

“Sir, I need Gold clearance to go ahead with an op.”

 ---

Elyan squints through the window of the car, already obscured with droplets of rain. Owain and Pelinor are suited up in the back.

Merlin dashes towards the car, pulling a coat over his head. He clambers, dripping, into the driver’s seat and slams the door.

“We allowed to know where we’re going sir?” Owain, young and fresh-faced, pipes up.

Merlin’s already revving the engine and backing out of the car park, windscreen wipers flailing. “Witness in an AC-12 case. Credible threat to life.”

Looks are exchanged. A shadow of silence falls over the car.

 ---

_Avery Close, 23:47_

The car pulls up outside a house on the outskirts of a deathly silent middle-class neighbourhood. It appears deserted – no lights, no car, nothing to indicate the presence of police at all.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Elyan mutters.

Merlin swallows before wrenching the car door open and making his way towards the house. Owain and Pelinor follow closely, Elyan watching from the car.

The door opens suddenly and a lone officer, young and pretty with blonde hair, spills out of it in a rush, escorting a figure largely obscured by the bath towel tossed over their head. She quickly shuts it, fear and panic blossoming across her face.

“DS Vivian West sir.” She says quickly.

“Where’s your squad?” Merlin asks, puzzled.

“It’s just me,” West glances back at the house and lowers her voice, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re inside. I need a safe destination right now.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“I don’t know. But they’re armed.”

She looks at him pleadingly. Merlin bites his lip, considering what to do.

“Do you have a car?”

West nods. “It’s parked down the street. Registration Bravo Delta Foxtrot zero, nine eight India.”

Merlin turns to his squad. “Owain, Pelinor, take the car, follow me. We’ll take the backstreets. Personal radios back-to-back on 2.”

Owain and Pelinor take off running down the road and Merlin hustles the pair into the backseat along with a roar of wind and raindrops.

“Where are we going?” asks Elyan.

Merlin fixes his seatbelt. “Back to base. There’s intruders in the house.”

 ---

The cars crawl down the road as the rain grows worse by the minute, the droplets illuminated brightly in the headlights.

“Pelinor, do we have company?” Merlin speaks under his breath into the radio.

“ _Negative_.”

In the rear-view mirror, Merlin watches West, sat stiffly upright, her eyes betraying her fear.

Suddenly there’s a screech of tyres and a yell, and Merlin sees a van heading straight for them, swerves to avoid it, temporarily blinded in the headlights.

They career into a tree and slip back down the waterlogged grass to the road. Alarms blare – the other car lies on its side, smashed glass littered across the road.

The car screeches to a halt and a hail of bullets tears through the window without warning. Screams pierce the air as blood and glass spill across the leather. Sharpened police instincts make Merlin duck, avoiding the spray. The others aren’t so lucky.

It shuts off as suddenly as it begun and Merlin slowly unfurls from his crouch under the seat.

The car is a bloodbath. West is splayed on her back, her mouth frozen in a silent scream. The bath towel is decorated with crimson roses. Shards of glass envelope the seats in a deadly blanket.

Oh God – Elyan. Merlin, hands shaking, feels for a pulse, desperately digging his fingers into the soft flesh. Nothing. His hands come away slippery with blood. A dull, throbbing pain in his head makes his ears ring.

For a moment, shock and horror distort the world and the only sound is Merlin’s heartbeat and a swimming jumble of voices.

Then it jolts back to real time and alarms are blaring and there are shouts, more people pouring out of the van. Merlin sheds his seatbelt and scrabbles at the door, finally prising it open and crawling out of the wreckage.

They haven’t noticed him. Merlin pulls himself towards the cover of the trees, trembling and gasping, vomit stuck in his throat. His legs aren’t working properly. Mud inches under his fingernails. His jacket is saturated with freezing air. Rain drips down his face. His breaths are heavy and ragged.

Just as he reaches the trees, there’s a roar of light and a rush of heat and the cars burst into flames.

An instinctive scream falls from his lips as he watches his comrades go to their fiery deaths. Powerless and paralysed, merlin sits in shock, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

Two figures tumble from the overturned car, their clothes alight, like demons soaring up from the depths of hell, contorting, rolling across the concrete in agony, crying inhuman cries. Rain extinguishes their sizzled flesh.

The van is gone.

The cars continue to burn.


	2. The Trait of Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter two is up. Thanks to everyone who commented/left kudos on chapter one. There will be a bit of a long break before chapter three is up, sorry about that, but I'll do my best to get more of it done in that time. Please enjoy!

The emergency department of Camelot General Hospital is on full alert. Monitors beep, doctors bark orders, nurses insert tubes containing exotically-named chemicals into burnt, bloody arms, a percussion of shoes squeak across the polished marble floor.

Merlin’s brain turns it all into white noise, focusing on sitting very still in the tiny cubicle, legs hanging over the edge of the trolley. His neck is trapped in a cervical collar which itches like hell.

“BP unreadable, losing output…”

The voice drifts in from nowhere. Merlin stares very hard at the skirting board, pristine and white. Why are hospitals always so white?

The curtain of the cubicle swishes open to reveal Chief Superintendent Aulfric Tirmor – world-weary, bearded, gaining weight faster than he’d like to admit.

“How are you DI Emrys?”

Merlin remains silent. A thousand answers swirl in his brain and lodge in his throat.

Aulfric, sensing he won’t get an answer any time soon, enters and takes a seat on the trolley.

“Owain’s pretty much spent. But they think Pelinor will pull through, with a bit of luck.”

Merlin nods painfully.

“Where there any other people there with you?”

The whisper is strangled and raspy. “Yes sir.”

“Can you tell me who they were?”

“I’m not yet clear whether that’s information I should be divulging sir.”

Merlin won’t meet his eyes.

Aulfric sits back with an impatient sigh. Then he leans forward again with fresh intent.

“It was an accident.”

It’s all Merlin can do to exhibit surprise on his face. “What?”

“It was an accident. You were driving away from the station – you’d clocked off for the evening. It had been raining, the roads were slippery. You crashed. End of.”

“I don’t understand.”

Aulfric grits his teeth. “I don’t know what the fuck you were doing out there DI Emrys but I can assure you that it wasn’t legal. I’m not having a black mark on my squad because of one officer’s stupidity.”

Merlin finally gets it. “You want me to lie.”

“Only took you a few days.”

“Sir, with all due respect, it wasn’t an illegal op.”

“You didn’t have proper clearance!”

“I did. Monmouth can confirm that.”

“Not from me!” Anger glimmers in Aulfric’s eyes, threatening to spill over. “I got your messages. If you’d just given me five minutes –”

“Oh I gave you five minutes.”

It’s enough to shock Aulfric into silence.

“I gave you twenty. Twenty fucking minutes,” Merlin speaks as loud as he can, battling with his sandpaper-dry tongue. “Three people are dead. I’m not going along with some stupid cover-up when there’s been an attack on the police just because you can’t be bothered to fill in the paperwork.”

Aulfric inhales sharply. For a full thirty seconds there’s only the hustle of the emergency department.

Then he leans it very close, too close and hisses in Merlin’s ear.

“Well you can consider your pathetic little career over then.”

A spray of saliva peppers his face. Merlin flinches. Aulfric shoots him one last glare before sweeping out of the cubicle.

Slowly, Merlin gets to his feet on half dead legs and limps over to the curtain to survey the scene. Something is wrong. Owain’s monitor is shut off, the tubes absent from his arm. A nurse unstraps the oxygen mask and prepares to pull a white sheet over his mangled face.

“CPR discontinued at 0043 hours. Authorisation of Dr Meuirden.”

Tears well up in Merlin’s eyes and his knees buckle.

 ---

It’s another hour before anyone else comes for him. An hour of sitting curled up in a ball, the curtain stuffed in his mouth to stifle the screaming.

He sees two pairs of feet in shiny black boots and navy trousers enter. “-but sir-”

“Will, I’m sorry but DI Emrys is not in a fit state to be interviewed at this point in time.”

The welcome voice of his mentor and friend DCI Gaius Wilson almost prompts Merlin to weep in relief. He doesn’t quite dare look up at the two officers but then hands are held out in offer and he gladly pulls himself up, managing a weak nod at Will as he leaves.

“Merlin, are you alright?” Gaius asks.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

The old man shakes his head reproachfully. “Liar,” He hands Merlin a tissue. “Come on, let’s get you home. I’ll drive.”

Merlin grabs his hand as he makes to leave. “Chief Superintendent Tirmor-”

“I know, I know,” Gaius interrupts. “I’m sorting it all out Merlin. Don’t worry. Your career isn’t going to be over any time soon, not on my watch.”

A smile seems impossible at this point in time so Merlin just nods, blowing his nose loudly. “Thanks Gaius.”

“I’m sorry about Elyan.”

“S’OK.”

“Come on now.”

Merlin balls up the tissue in his pocket and lets Gaius lead him out of the emergency department.

 ---

After Gaius drops him off at his flat, Merlin crashes on the sofa for a full 48 hours, his sleep broken by a string of nightmare that plague him at half hourly intervals.

Eventually, hunger takes precedence and he manages to shuffle into the kitchen and make a bowl of cereal. He fills Kilgharrah’s bowl with another tin of disgusting, sloppy cat food and scratches him between the ears fondly.

A week passes by in a blur of sympathetic calls, which he largely ignores, cheap old wine and crap TV. Merlin can’t do much more than just lie on the sofa, drifting off at odd hours only to wake up from yet another nightmare.

10pm on a Sunday. Fatigue is being to set in and he’s got a buzzing headache from the consumption of too much Brown Brother’s Merlot when the phone rings. Too tired to even glance at the Caller ID, Merlin picks it up and settles back down into his crease on the sofa, mumbling a sleep “DI Emrys.”

“ _Hello Merlin. Sorry, I know it’s late_.”

“Gaius. Hey.” He stifles a yawn.”

“ _Well the good news is you’re not fired_ ,” says Gaius. “ _You’re suspended from service for another week and you’ve been demoted to Detective Sergeant. Aulfric wasn’t going to let you stay on his squad any time soon so you’ve been transferred to AC-12_.”

“Anti-corruption?”

“ _Oh come now Merlin, we both know you’re more than well-suited for the job. Refusing to cover the attack, turning in Kara on Borden Case – not many other officers would have done that_.”

Merlin squirms uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to turn her in.”

“ _I know. But it was necessary_.”

Guilt threatens to invade his thoughts again and merlin quickly gulps down half a glassful of wine.

“ _Oh, they want you in for interviewing as a witness on the Wednesday_ ,” Gaius adds. “ _I can drive you if you want_.”

“No. It’s OK,” Merlin rubs his eyes. “Thanks Gaius. I mean it. For everything.”

“ _You owe me a drink at the Dragon next Sunday_.”

Merlin chuckles hoarsely. “Yes sir.”

“ _Goodbye Merlin_.”

“Bye Gaius.”

A click and the line goes dead. Merlin replaces the phone with a sigh, burrowing further under the blanket. He switches the TV off and shuts his eyes.

 ---

Of course, Gaius comes round round on Wednesday anyway, which is probably a good thing or Merlin would never have made it to the interview.

“Go change,” he orders when Merlin drags himself off the sofa. “Just because you’ve been demoted doesn’t mean that the dress standards no longer apply.”

Merlin goes into the bedroom. The pile of neatly folded clothes he set out for tomorrow on the night of the ambush are still there. He dresses quickly and returns to the front room.

It’s strange going outside for the first time in a week, exposing his pasty skin to the weather. Gaius is parked down the end of the street and the short walk is all it takes for the typical British rain to set in.

“Who’s sitting in with me?” Merlin asks in the car.

“Godric.”

Merlin sighs. “Oh not him for Christ’s sake.”

“I’m sorry Merlin but I don’t have any say in these matters.”

“I know, I know. It’s just when Godric sits in on these sessions he never _does_ anything. Makes a timid suggestion every now and then but apart from that…”

“he has been doing this for a long term Merlin. He should’ve retired years ago.”

“Yeah, he should’ve.”

Gaius shoots him a look in the mirror but doesn’t comment.

 ---

The obnoxious wail of the tape recorder goes on for fifteen seconds before it allows the officer to speak.

“AC-12 interview, DS Merlin Emrys and Federation rep DI Godric, in the presence of DI Agravaine du Bois and DC Guinevere Smith. Also present, DCI Gaius Wilson. DS Emrys, let us make this perfectly clear, you are being interviewed as a witness, not as as a suspect in matters of crime, discipline or misconduct. Do you understand?”

Merlin nods, taking the opportunity to size up the two officers. The speaker, DI du Bois, looks to be in his early fifties, balding a little and slightly overweight with dark, bushy eyebrows. He’s smiling, seemingly trying to ease some of the tension in the little room. Looks like one of those regulation sticklers.

The other one is painful to looks at. He’s never met her before but he easily recognises Elyan’s younger sister Gwen from the numerous family photos on his desk. Although her conduct seems perfectly calm and professional, there’s obvious grief in her red-rimmed eyes which nearly breaks Merlin’s heart.

“We need an audio confirmation for the tape DS Emrys.” says Agravaine.

“I understand.” Merlin replies shortly.

“DS Emrys, would you mind taking us through exactly what happened on the night of September 19th?”

Merlin swallows. “I was covering as Duty Inspector for one of my colleagues, Isolde Hunter. She had a family event to attend. At about eleven forty Detective Sergeant Elyan Smith passed a call on to me.”

“And what was said in that call.”

“The caller identified herself as DS Vivian West. She advised me that there was immediate and credible threat to the life of a witness in an AC-12 case and requested assistance. I followed up on that request.”

“Did she expand on the nature of this threat? Indicate how she’d come by the information?”

“no.”

“go on.”

“Me and my squad located West and drove out to provide assistance.”

“Yes, and according to Chief Superintendent Tirmor you did not come to him for Gold clearance for this operation. Can you confirm that?”

“Yes.”

“So you took your squad out on an illegal op?”

“No.”

“Would you care to elaborate DS Emrys?”

“The Chief Super wasn’t picking up his phone. I got clearance from DCC Monmouth.”

“Right. Thank you. Please continue.”

“Me and my squad drove to 32 Avery Close. West left the house with the witness just as we arrived. She claimed there were armed intruders in the house.”

“Did you do anything to confirm this?”

“No.”

“And why not?”

“We had no arms and no back-up.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It was a spur of the moment op. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Right. So what did you do then?”

“West advised me she needed a safe destination as soon as possible. Owain and Pelinor took her car and she and the witness were in mine. We were driving back to 4th Street Station via the backroads.”

There’s a long pause. Merlin can practically _feel_ their gaze on him. Visions of Elyan’s slumped body, Owain writhing on the ground as the flames consume him, flicker before his eyes.

“And what happened next?” Gwen prompts.

“Ahem – I believe DS Emrys has a right to be questioned by an officer at least one rank superior.” Godric coughs nervously.

“DS Emrys is being interviewed as a witness, not a suspect DI Godric. That regulation doesn’t apply,” says Gwen. “What happened please?”

Merlin shuts his eyes, unable to look at her for a second longer. “There was a van. It came straight for us. I swerved to avoid it and crashed. They shot at the car and Smith, West and the witness were killed. The other car was on its side; I didn’t see what happened to it.” He bites his lip. “They hadn’t seen me. I got out of the car and took cover at the side of the road. When I looked back the – the car was on fire. Owain and Pelinor got out but…”

Merlin attempts to collect himself. “They-” his voice wobbles.

“You say the convoy was attacked?” says Agravaine.

“Yes. I didn’t see who.”

“Well according to CS Tirmor and DC Pelinor, it was simply a car crash.”

Merlin starts. “Pelinor’s awake?”

“Could you just answer the question please DS Emrys?”

“They’re lying. Tirmor tried to get me to go along with a cover-up but I refused.”

“I see,” Agravaine leans forward. “But DS Emrys – if this was an impromptu operation then how did the convoy know where you would be?”

“I can’t answer that sir.”

“Why are you here as well? From what you’ve told us, you were driving. In the front seat. Why didn’t the bullets hit you?”

“I was under the seat. I dodged them.”

“DS Emrys, you must realise that we have to consider the possibility of an information leak from an officer –”

“DI du Bois, with all due respect,” Gwen interrupts. “DS Emrys is being interviewed as a witness only. If you’re going to pursue this line of enquiry you’ll have to issue a Regulation 18 notice, something which you do not have sufficient ground for doing.”

Agravaine shoots her an annoyed look but obligingly doesn’t finish what he was saying.

“I did not leak that information.” Merlin says quietly.

There’s a pause. Then “Interview terminated.” Agravaine shuts off the tape and departs, gathering up his folders.

Gwen remains in her seat and when he leaves reaches across the table with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry about that. Thanks for coming in.”

“S’allright,” Merlin fidgets uncomfortably. “I’m sorry about your brother.”

“it’s fine,” Gwen says quickly. “I know it wasn’t your fault.”

She stands up, tucking sheets into her folder. “Elyan talked about you a lot.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. Said you were the best copper in the service but...”

“What?”

Gwen bites her lip. “Well in his own words ‘an incorrigible, stubborn bastard who needs some sense knocked into that airhead.”

The laughter starts as a tickle, progresses to a snort and Merlin’s suddenly laughing like there’s no tomorrow, even though it’s not even that funny. Gwen giggles. Just like Elyan to be so bluntly honest.

Honesty.

A rare trait found in police officers these days.

 


	3. A Deer Amongst Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I basically went a whole week without Internet and survived! Just.  
> Kudos to anyone who spots the Sherlock reference :)

7am on a Monday morning. Merlin steps through the revolving doors, instantly struck by how chilly it is inside. AC-12 looks about the same as every other station he’s been in – tall, angular, white, metal and glass. Summing up the design of the building doesn’t take a genius.

Merlin unhooks his new ID, now identifying him as DS Merlin Emrys of AC-12 and swipes it to open the gate. There’s a certain knack to it that gives newcomers trouble but with five years of police service under his belt it grants him instant access.

A huge staircase supported by cylindrical white pillars dominates the main entrance of the building, all polished steel railings and sharp angles. Merlin cranes his neck to take in it’s great expanse, presented with a slightly odd mixture of awe, intimidation and comfort. He lingers downstairs, too nervous and awkward to start making his way up to the offices where the famously ruthless Chief Superintendent Pendragon lurks.

“Are you OK?”

The voice startles Merlin out of his reverie. He looks round to see the most disarmingly gorgeous man he’s ever seen watching him, head titled slightly to one side in curiosity in possibly the most adorable way ever.

Half-formed words instantly die. He opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out. The young man has pale blue eyes that shimmer like sunlight on ice, smudged with the palest of grey flecks.

They stare at each other for a moment in time that stretches out for an eternity.

Then Merlin blinks and the spell is broken, leaving them blushing and averting their eyes awkwardly.

“Um,” Merlin clears his throat. “I just transferred from 4th Street. I was just, uh, familiarising myself with the place.” He notices the rather precarious pile of folders and papers in the young man’s arms, which threatens to topple right over at any second. “Here – let me help you with that.”

With some difficulty, he manages to extract about half of the stack and tuck it under his arm. The young man smiles at him.

“Thank you. Arthur told me we were getting someone new. DS… Emmett, right?” The young man sticks out a hand to shake. “DC Mordred Lot, AC-12.”

“Nice to meet you,” Merlin takes the offered hand. “Um… it’s DS Emrys by the way, not DS Emmett.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry.” Mordred flushes.

“It’s fine, it’s fine honestly,” Merlin quickly reassures him. “You – you can just call me Merlin. If you like.”

Mordred raises an eyebrow. “I take it you had terrible parents too?”

“You can hardly blame them,” Merlin shrugs. “They were called Hunith and Balinor.”

This elicits a trickle of laughter from Mordred, like the bubbling of a stream. Merlin grins. “Well I suppose that’s understandable. Mine were just plain John and Mary so I’ve never been as forgiving.”

They laugh again. Then it peters out and they end up staring again.

“Um,” Mordred scratches the back of his neck. “If you’ve just transferred you need to go the the Chief Super. I can take you, it’s on my way.”

“OK, thanks.”

Merlin breathes a quiet sigh of relief that at least he didn’t make a complete fool of himself as he follows Mordred up the stairs. And attempts not to stare at his arse the entire way.

 ---

The door to the Chief Super’s office is shut. There’s a small brass plaque adorning the wood with ‘Chief Superintendent’ inscribed on it in neat letters.

“He’s not as bad as the rumours suggest.” Mordred had said before leaving.

Merlin inhales deeply and raps on the door.

“Come in!”

He pushes the door open, peering in but not quite brave enough to enter. A tall, broad-shouldered man with blond hair and a scar marring his face is sat at a desk that’s clearly too small for him. If it came down to it he could probably take Merlin apart with one blow.

He’s not alone – Agravaine is there as well, along with a woman with long dark hair in an elaborate plait, crimson lipstick and a frown on her face. They look up at him, annoyance present in varying degrees on their faces.

“Yes?” the blond man asks irritably – presumably he’s Chief Superintendent Pendragon.

“Um,” Merlin feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I’m DS Emrys. I’ve just transferred. I was told to come here?”

He feels so incredibly awkward and tiny and desperately wishes the floor would just swallow him up into another dimension or something.

“Yes, I suppose you were,” With an impatient sigh, Pendragon takes the papers on his desk and starts filing them away in various drawers. “Agravaine, Morgana, sorry but we’ll have to pick this up later.”

“Very good sir.” Agravaine nods.

Morgana’s icy glare seems to reach into the deepest, darkest recesses of his head – as she starts walking towards him Merlin wonders if it might be safer to just run and hide in the pub for the rest of the day.

“Elyan was one of ours you know.”

Merlin stares at her blankly. “What?”

“He was working undercover in your squad,” Morgana says, her voice steely. “His sister works here too, did you know that? She’s been crying her eyes out every night. And West’s brother too. Bet you’re glad about that you asshole because I swear to God-”

“Morgana.” Pendragon says warningly.

She turns to face him. “Sorry sir. Just giving DS Emrys a heads-up sir.”

She shoots Merlin one last poisonous glare, dripping with murderous intent, and stalks out, knocking into his shoulder for good measure. Agravaine follows her, having uttered a respectful farewell to his superior.

“Take a seat.” Pendragon waves a hand at a hair as the door shuts, preoccupied with something on his computer screen.

Merlin sits down quickly, sensing that this is not a man who likes to be kept waiting and waits for him to finish. Mordred’s earlier reassurances about the Chief Super are rapidly dissipating.

“Right DS Emrys,” Pendragon turns to face him. “I’m Chief Superintendent Pendragon. Call me Arthur if you wish – we’re pretty relaxed about rank in AC-12 but I imagine they do things rather differently at 4th Street.” The way he says it it sounds like every other police division is made up of smelly, ill-mannered peasants unfit to associate with.

“OK.” Merlin mumbles.

“DCI Gaius Wilson – I assume you know him – put you down for this transfer. Were you aware of this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why he did it?”

“My former squad leader was threatening my position after the… incident.” Merlin shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

Arthur folds his hands under his chin, brow furrowed, eyes sweeping over Merlin like some sort of sci-fi scanner desperate to find fault.

“Do you think you’re able enough to work here?”

Of all the – how fucking dare he? Merlin stiffens. “Yes I do.”

“Are you sure? Those rumours about me don’t stem from nothing you know.”

“All due respect _sir_ , but I’ve been a police officer for five years. I think I can handle a shitty desk job.”

The moment those words fly from his lips Merlin knows he’s made a mistake. Why, why, _why_ does he not have a brain-to-mouth filter like normal people?

Arthur’s silent for a few moments. Then, to Merlin’s complete and utter astonishment, he starts _laughing_. He has a dimple in his right cheek which seems very out-of-character.

“I like you,” Arthur chuckles. “Well you’re on desk duties for your first week, _Merlin_. But I think you’ll probably be in for a surprise.”

Merlin attempts a smile and ends up with a huge windscreen-wiper grin on his face for no reason whatsoever.

“I’ve taken the liberty of sending you an email with everything you need on it,” Arthur continues. “It’s mostly just checking off paperwork from previous cases. You’ve got a desk, it’s marked with your name so it should be easy to spot, even for someone of your intelligence.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Right. If you’ll excuse me I have some pissed-off lawyers to speak to.” Arthur stands up. Clearly dismissed, Merlin does the same, making to leave.

“Welcome to AC-12 DS Emrys.” comes the call as he shuts the door behind him. It’s not quite mocking, yet not quite genuine and Merlin doesn’t really know what to make of it.

 ---

As he takes his seat and switches on the computer, Merlin can feel the accusing stares burning into the back of his head like lasers. It’s hardly surprising – he’s a newcomer, an outsider for another division altogether and from what Morgana said he got one of their own killed. He fixes his gaze on the screen and tries to ignore it.

Something small and hard hits his head and bounces off the desk, landing on the floor. A rubber. Merlin glances up, trying to pinpoint the thrower.

It’s a tall, clean-shaven man who looks a bit like the 9th Doctor, staring at Merlin as if he’d like to rip him to shreds, roast him on a fire and stomp on the ashes. His tag identifies him as DC Valiant West.

Oh. West’s brother, the one Morgana was talking about.

Merlin quickly looks away but his gaze lands on Gwen, chatting with a man with longish dark hair and the beard one sees on rugged action heroes like Robin Hood. She catches him staring and waves across the room. She has the same chocolatey brown eyes as Elyan.

Visions of blood and shattered glass and fire and oozing, crispy flesh dripping bloody candle wax across a black road swim before his eyes.

Merlin retches. His stomach flips. Then he’s running, his chair sent crashing to the floor, a hand clamped over his mouth to hold it in. He reaches the toilet door, yanks it open and falls into a cubicle, puking his guts out and sobbing. Elyan’s corpse shadowed in blood, Owain and Pelinor little more than human torches, reflect up at him in the toilet bowl and he vomits again, losing what little is left of his pitiful breakfast.

Suddenly there’s a _bang!_ and rough hands are grabbing him by the hair, forcing his face down into the toilet bowl. Merlin chokes and splutters, trying to scream but his mouth fills with fucking _vomit_ of all things unholy.

He’s wrenched back upwards, gagging and crying, lungs in spasms, clogged with water.

“No arms! No back-up!” a voice hisses in his ear “You got my sister fucking killed. You should be the one we’re burying you fucking asshole!”

He’s plunged back into the toilet, wheezing and throat constricting and there’s the distant rumble of the flush and oh God, this must be what it’s like to die –

“DC WEST!”

Abruptly, the hands pull him back out and dump him unceremoniously on the toilet floor. Merlin immediately coughs up about a gallon of water and vomit, limbs convulsing, eyes sore and choked with water and tears.

He blinks to clear them. His assailant, Valiant West, stands awkwardly next to the toilet. Arthur, eyes flaming, towers over the doorway, Mordred peeking in behind him.

“DC West. My office. Now,” Arthur’s voice is pure ice. “Mordred, take care of him.”

He stalks out and Valiant follows, aiming a kick at Merlin’s head which thankfully misses. Mordred quickly kneels down – oh shit, in the rancid pool of water and vomit – and helps him up, murmuring soothing nothings and pressing toilet paper into his hands. Gratefully, Merlin wipes his face, still reeling, tears flowing in a toilet, dry heaving into his hands. The toilet paper is nice, soft and absorbent. Mordred runs a hand up and down his back. His skin is warm and his touch calming and eventually the hysteria wears off.

“Thank you.” Merlin rasps, throat burning as he gulps down oxygen.

“It’s OK,” Mordred takes the soggy paper and flushes it down the toilet. Then, hesitantly, he starts stroking Merlin’s back again. Merlin leans into the touch, desperately needing something real to cling onto.

“I’m so sorry.” Mordred murmurs.

“S’not your fault.”

_I’m the one who should be dead._


End file.
